


Not By Blood

by Pkducklett



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pkducklett/pseuds/Pkducklett
Summary: In which Sylvain wants a big brother.
Relationships: Glenn Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 125





	Not By Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 Prompt is "Family", and this one is late and long. Probably the longest one I’ll write for this challenge. I’ve had this planned for a bit, and I greatly underestimated how difficult it would be to translate into words. Now just to say, this fic does deal heavily in themes of child abuse (both verbally and physically). Please be warned.

_They are Felix’s friends, and you need to treat them with respect._

A fact that his father was quick to remind him of whenever other noble houses were around. Truthfully Glenn had nothing against them, they were only children of course. That didn’t mean they weren’t annoying or tiresome. He was glad that Felix could keep them away from him, occupied with some game they played or whatever. Still, it didn’t hurt to be safe and keep yourself in a position away from their antics. 

The training grounds were precisely where Glenn could be to get away. Surely any sensible child knew that running in the same area as arrows flying or swords swinging was not to be attempted. The only company he had to worry about was the mature adults. Though thinking a talk from Count Galatea about his future marriage did little to put him at ease on that front. Nor did the sudden feeling that he was being watched. 

Attempting to ignore the feeling, he pushed through more forms, pausing between swings to bury his discomfort. Finding it becoming harder to breathe, he whipped around to face the person so keen on interrupting him. He intended on telling them off, giving them a piece of his mind, or something. 

Looking at him with a sense of childlike innocence was the red-haired lanky Gautier child. Glenn found himself tongue tied. Despite his frustration, he knew the verbal lashing that came with yelling at a child, particularly the child of a neighboring house. Racking his brain to find what to say, he chose his words carefully. 

“You really shouldn’t be out here.” He said slowly. “You could get hurt.” He hoped that by phrasing it as if he cared would soften whatever yelling came from correcting another man’s child. 

Gautier’s child seemed unphased by his words, and simply stared back with an expression mixed of confusion and amusement. This, greatly unsettled Glenn, who was only getting more unnerved by the child’s continued presence. Luckily, he didn’t have to put up with him for long. 

“Sylvain? Sylvain come on!” His brother’s voice called for the lost child from the group. Sylvain Guatier did not hesitate in rushing off to rejoin the others, only stealing one last glance in Glenn’s direction before disappearing from the grounds. 

Glenn was alone once again, but that did little to calm his nerves. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. Guatier’s child was just a foolish little one who wandered too far from the group. Surely nothing would come of this, surely.

* * *

Border meetings were _hell_. Several hours of listening to his father speak with the leader of their closest neighboring territory, and Margrave Gautier loved to hear himself talk. He hoped no one would be offended that he excused himself to stretch his legs. He especially hoped no one had seen he had already fallen asleep at this meeting, dozing off some time ago only to awake and find the Margrave still talking. 

He yawned and stretched, he knew this was all part of the game of nobles. With a sigh, he tried to keep his mind clear, moving through the halls of the family home. He knew he’d have to return to the meeting eventually, but he wanted to try and force himself awake first. 

Passing several murals and paintings on the walls, he tried to remember what each had represented, who the portraits were of, anything to stay awake. Slowly he becomes aware of something, someone else watching him. Small footsteps moved quickly to keep up with Glenn’s increasing strides. Finding it impossible to outmaneuver his small stalker, he turned around to face them. 

Sylvain Gautier was panting slightly, out of breath. Messy red hair hung over his eyes as he gripped the wall, taking small deep breaths. 

This time Glenn found it difficult to hold his tongue. “What do you want?” he said in a regrettably snappish tone. 

He thought he saw the child flinch, but tried to ignore it. “Was… wondering… what you were… doing.” Sylvain said between shallow breaths. “Thought… you were… suppose to still be in with… my father.”

Shit. Right. Everything he said would get back to Margrave Gautier, and that’s exactly the drama that his family needed right now was for the kid to squeal. For the sake of not pissing off their neighboring house, Glenn pushed down his annoyance. 

“Apologies. And I am.” He adopted a softer, calmer voice through gritted teeth. “I just thought I’d take a quick walk.”

“Are the meetings… you know… boring?” Sylvain was getting better control over his breath now. 

Glenn nearly snorted. “Come again?”

“Father says I’ll have to start going soon.” Sylvain explained “He says I need to start taking responsibility as a leader, but they sound boring. I don’t want to sit and watch grown ups talk.” 

Neither do I kid. Glenn tried to keep himself from smiling. Another thing he didn’t need was to be blamed as a bad influence. “They’re important.” he forced himself to say eventually.

Sylvain sighed dramatically. “But why though? Can’t they just agree to work together and get it over with?”

It was getting harder to hide his amusement. “It’s not just agreeing that they need to do. It’s tactics and plans to make sure there isn’t an invasion.”

“I guess you’re right.” Sylvain said stretching his arms over his head. “When I take over my house, I’m going to make the meetings fun.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah.”

“Well, I look forward to it.” Glenn managed to give a bemused smile. 

Sylvain was practically beaming in response. It unsettled Glenn slightly but he did his best to hide it, at the very least he would hopefully be out of trouble.

“Sylvain?” His brother’s voice shook him out of the trance he found himself slipping into. 

Sylvain turned toward where Felix was calling, but hesitated. Switching glances between Glenn and his companion, clearing waiting for something. 

“Go on, Sylvain.” Glenn gently shooed his brother’s friend toward his general location. 

Sylvain still hesitated. 

“We can continue talking later.” He could kick himself for his words. 

Finally satisfied, Sylvain ran off. “Coming Felix!” Glenn heard him yell as he dashed away. 

He sighed, and began walking back to the tactics room. At least the kid had no reason to squeal, and worst case scenario, he could avoid a child for a few days.

* * *

He yelled as the training dummy lost another limb. He was breathing heavier than he cared to admit. He wiped off his sword, preparing for the next strike. Training was a natural way to handle frustration, and boy was it relieving pretending the dummies were any number of stressful people. His father and future father-in-law were the bane of his existence. How the hell was he suppose to think about marriage right now? He would be moving out with his posting soon to patrol along the border. And hell, she was only seven. How _the hell_ was he suppose to love her when she didn’t even know what love was? 

Another swing and the dummy lost its head. Glenn stood breathing over the lifeless replica. How soon would he be seeing the real thing? A knot turned in his stomach and he pushed the thought aside. Combat was not to be feared, it was a natural part of being a knight. Glenn reminded himself of how much he wanted it, how much he worked for it, and the feeling subsided. With a sigh, he collected the training dummy and walked back to the edge of the grounds. He would get yelled at to be more careful with them from the maid, but he didn’t care. 

Dropping the pieces off near the exit he noticed one of the training swords had been taken. He didn’t have to look far to find its procurer. On the other end of the training grounds, against the light of the setting sun, Sylvain was moving back and forth with the trainer in hand. Every so often, landing an imaginary jab against his imaginary assailant and laughing. 

Glenn sighed, and began to move to retrieve the wooden sword to place among the others.

Sylvain had not noticed Glenn until he was nearly upon him. Strangely, the child’s face turned white when he spotted Glenn and he froze. They exchanged looks for a few moments, Sylvain looking like a deer about to be shot between the eyes, before Glenn once again pushed closer. Except each step Glenn made forward, Sylvain moved back. 

Not in the mood for games, Glenn dove to grab the wooden sword. Sylvain, however, was small and quick, and backed out of his reach before he could retrieve it. He wasn’t however, well balanced, as he landed in the dirt. Glenn made another move to get the sword, and Sylvain crawled once again out of reach. 

Running out of patience, he went for a third grab of the sword. Sylvain dodged him again, but just barely, and dodging did cost him. Glenn was now standing over him and he had no way to slip out. 

“I’m sorry.” Sylvain whimpered. He had dropped the sword and adopted a defensive stance, raising his arms over his face and cowering. “I’m sorry sorry sorry.” he was practically chanting the words over and over. 

Glenn stood over him, confused. It was as if he was expecting to be hurt. Looking closer at the child’s arms, he could see portions exposed from rolled up sleeves and his heart sank. Cuts, bruises, partially healed, and definitely intentional lined the child’s forearm up to his wrist. He had suspected Margrave Gautier to not be one to spare the rod, but surely a nobleman knew not to damage a part so exposed lest it draw attention. 

He pushed his distaste for the Margrave aside, extending his hand out to the cowering Gautier child. It took Sylvain several seconds to realize there was no immediate attack and to lower his arms. It took him longer to realize the outstretched hand was in fact, for him, and was not meant as a threat. He faltered when taking the hand and cautiously pushed himself to his feet. With Sylvain on his feet, Glenn bent down to pick up the training sword. 

“I apologize for scaring you.” he said catching Sylvain’s gaze as he stood back up, the child had been crying. 

“I should have just said I needed the training sword instead of trying to chase it from you.” Glenn continued. 

Sylvain rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, and remained silent. 

“If it would make it up to you, I can show you how to properly do that move you were working on. It took me awhile to get good at it too.” 

“You’d do that?” Sylvain’s voice was weak, and on the verge of breaking. 

“It’s the least I can do to make up for it.” Glenn handed the trainer back to Sylvain and drew his own sword. “Now, when you step forward, you move your arm like this.”

He continued practicing with the Gautier child until dark, and he had to admit the child was a fast learner. Though the injuries still bothered him. He would need to discuss it with his father at a later time.

* * *

He had been gone for several weeks. The mission lasting much longer than originally anticipated. He never knew how great it would feel to step into his own home again. The relief of being home was brought short as all his other responsibilities caught back up to him. Marriage, politics, training. It was the combat on the homefront. 

Glenn wandered through the halls and stopped near the exit leading to the training grounds. It was getting late, but he could not go to sleep now. One or two forms wouldn’t hurt he told himself, pushing out to the open range. The moonlight illuminated shadows of the field. The blackness of night was eerily calming as he drew his sword. 

Movement caught his eye from the edge of the ground. Clearly late night practice had not been an idea for him alone, and he didn't need to take more than one guess on who else was sharing the field.

Sylvain was moving back and forth, trainer in hand, still practicing the form Glenn had shown him all that time ago. He silently admitted the kid had basically mastered it, a high achievement considering Felix was still working on the basics. Though as Glenn watched, he felt something in him tighten. Not every time, but on occasion, when the form called for the arm to extend, Sylvain would wince ever so slightly. It wasn't until he actually dropped the training weapon that Glenn felt the knot in his stomach again.

He had implored his father to look into the matter before he left, on why Felix's friend always seemed reluctant to leave and why he shied away from certain contact or grew nervous when you raised your voice at him. Rodrigue had sighed and promised he could approach the subject, but not promise results. Sylvain was not his child, afterall, and it was not his business how the Margrave handled his child. 

It seemed nearly three months later, progress still had not been made. Glenn had to push down his anger, he would talk to his father later. Until then, he would get to the bottom of it as best he could. 

"Impressive. You're doing quite well." He did his best to keep from immediately scaring the child as he strode toward him. 

Sylvain turned around to face him, surprised. "Thank you!" He called back, practically glowing from the unexpected praise. 

"Have you been practicing that one move the entire time?" Glenn was now standing over him, trying to keep his tone even and not arouse suspicion. 

"Father says I should be practicing with lances, but I really like the sword." Sylvain jabbed forward with the weapon, striking his imaginary opponent in the ribs. "So I've been splitting it up, lances with father, and swords here." 

So he's keeping secrets from him. "Is there any reason your father doesn't want you to learn swords?"

"They're unnecessary." Sylvain made another strike. "I'll be using the family relic, there's no reason to waste time learning the sword." The words were clearly not his own, but one of a prideful parental figure. "But I try to ignore him, I need to learn as much as possib-ah-" 

Sylvain had extended his arm only to recoil in pain. Pulling back quickly to cradle the injury, Glenn could hear the child silently cursing to himself. 

"Are... you hurt?" Again, Glenn tried to keep his voice even and concerned. 

"It's nothing." His voice was barely audible. "It should've healed by now."

Glenn was starting to feel his anger rising. "Can I see it?"

"It's really nothing."

Don't raise your voice, stay calm. "I just want to see, I did learn some healing magic from the knights."

Sylvain hesitated, but eventually pulled up the sleeve with a shaky hand. Glenn's heart dropped. It was quite obvious the arm had been broken, and the bruised outline of a handprint made it clear this was no accident. He tried to breathe, let the white magic flow through his fingertips like he was taught as he ran them down the forearm. 

"Who did this to you?" It was getting harder for Glenn to mask his anger. 

"It's not important." Sylvain began to shake beneath Glenn's touch. 

"If someone is hurting you, it is important." He stopped the flow of magic, but did not fully release Sylvain's arm. "This wasn't an accident, Sylvain. Someone did this to you on purpose and wanted to hurt you. So, who did this to you?"

He watched the fear rise in the child's eyes. "It's really not important." He repeated.

"Sylvain, it is important." He could feel himself getting frustrated. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not important."

"Who did this to you?"

"It's not important!" Sylvain nearly shouted the response before attempting to pull his arm away. 

Glenn's grip tightened. "Who did this to you?" He shouted back, keeping Sylvain close. 

Fuck. The effect was immediate. Sylvain let out a panicked screech before successfully pulling away from Glenn. He wasted no time sprinting as far as he could. Glenn debated on chasing him, but ultimately decided against it. He had terrified the kid enough for one night.

* * *

His father had rebuked him for scaring Felix’s friends but nothing more. No mention of the injury, not one word on the child’s treatment. When Glenn brought it up, he was dismissed. It was not his child, he could not interfere. It was terrible, but it could not be changed. 

What’s worse is that the kid didn’t even come near him anymore. In fact, Sylvain seemed to give the entire Fradarius clan a wide berth. During border meetings, he was actively avoiding seeing, speaking, or otherwise interacting with anyone. As troubled as Glenn was of the situation, he could not deny that his brother had taken it worse. Felix had, more than once, made him aware that he was the one to ruin his friendship with the Gautier child. Glenn didn’t even bother to argue or defend himself. It would be useless trying to explain what was happening to an eight year old. 

To add more shit to the fire, seeing the Gautier clan enter the Fraldarius estate, Sylvain looked the worst he’d ever been. Jumpy, ragged, worn, and so so tired. This kid was suffering, and no one was bothering to cover it up. Someone was getting away with this, and no one, not especially the child’s father, seemed to care. 

Glenn hated to admit defeat, it was criminal that this was allowed to continue as it did, but he did admit to a feeling of hopelessness. He had not been able to get the child to admit to wrongdoing on anyone’s part, and now it seemed he had ruined the chance for the subject to be brought up again. 

He sighed, pulling himself out of a drowsy haze that was sitting through another lecture by Margrave Gautier on border security. He would wake himself with training, then go to bed, then rise for another long discussion tomorrow. Such is the life of a noble. He pushed out the door to the setting sun. 

To his surprise, and horror, he was not alone in the training grounds. Despite how shit Sylvain looked, and honestly must have felt he was doing his best to push through a rigorous practice routine. It was a lance, not a sword, that he had in his hands and was forcing through the same motion over and over again. 

He didn’t need to step out far for the child to notice him. Right away, he stopped practicing and was beginning to gather up equipment to leave, all while not looking at Glenn directly. It would be a lie to say it didn’t hurt, even if just a little. 

“Before you go” Glenn began to speak, “I’d like to apologize for… for what happened. I really don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, but if you could not let what happened affect your opinion on Felix. He does miss you…” 

Sylvain’s back was turned to Glenn, so he couldn’t see the child’s face. It was sudden as he fell to the ground and pulled himself into a ball. He broke into sobs and didn’t even try to run away when Glenn moved closer to him and sat down at his side. 

Thankfully, one too many situations like this with Felix had prepared Glenn for how to act. He extended his arm, and pulled Sylvain closer, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he gently shushed him. Though not immediate, the rhythmic patterns began to take effect and Sylvain began to calm down, taking deep breaths between sobs. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Glenn asked, this time determined to sound and stay sounding gentle. 

He could feel Sylvain shake his head against his chest. 

“Talking does sometimes help, if you can.”

“I’m scared, I don’t want to die.” the child’s words were sobering to say the least. 

“You’re afraid… of _dying_?”

A nod. 

Goddess. This kid wasn’t even ten. “Can I ask? About what we were talking about last time, are you afraid of someone hurting you? Someone like your father perhaps?”

Sylvain pulled back from his grasp to look at him in the eyes. “Father? No, he would never hurt me.”

“If he doesn’t, then who does?” Glenn was genuinely confused now. 

The child buried his face back in his chest, and muttered something inaudible. 

“What was that?”

“I said Mik.” Sylvain repeated, loud enough to hear this time.

“Who’s-?”

“Mik is my older brother.”

Now he was really confused. The Margrave didn’t talk about any other child. The only child besides Sylvain had, to his memory, died right before...oh. 

“He’s the worst, and I hate him.” 

“He’s the one who hurts you? Doesn’t your father stop him?”

“Well, yeah. Father never lets Mik go unpunished.” Sylvain had now situated himself away from Glenn’s chest and was looking down. “But Mik says that whatever Father does, he’ll do twice that to me, and he means it. I try not to get Father involved if I don’t have to.”

“And this has been going on for how long?”

“Forever. Mik has never liked me.” Sylvain sighed. “I don’t know what I did. It’s not my fault I have a crest and he doesn’t. I tell him that and he doesn’t believe me. I tell him I’m not scared of him, and he laughs at me.” He was getting worked up now. “And it’s not my fault that when I take over, the best thing he could do is be another soldier in my army and die.”

Fuck. No way was this a simple case of sibling rivalry and no way were these words entirely Sylvain’s. 

“And that…” His voice dropped low. “That’s why I wanted to spend time with you.”

“Me?” Glenn asked, shocked. “Why me?”

“Because Felix says you’re the best brother ever.”

“Felix must be mistaken. I’m a terrible brother.”

“No you’re not.” Sylvain turned to him and now wore a very serious expression. “You’re a great brother. You don’t get mad when I watch you train, you let me ask questions, and you apologize.” He was getting excited again. “And not only that, but you show me how to do forms and you don’t say mean things when I practice.”

That was just me showing basic decency. 

“And you’ve never called me dumb or weak or lazy.” Sylvain continued. “Or told me to die, or threw me down the stairs, or pinned me to a wall.” 

The fact the kid continued to pull examples was making Glenn feel sick.

“...Or threw me in a well. Or put a knife to my throat and tell me how I should just do everyone a favor and kill myself.” He stopped, letting go of the energy and sighing. “And I thought… I thought you could be my brother too.” 

“You want me to be your brother?” He tried to hide his surprise.

“Yeah.” Sylvain was speaking so soft now. “Felix told me how great it was to have a brother like you, I thought you could be my brother too.”

He could only guess that having a brother like that would make him look like the greatest brother in the world. The fact that he was only treating him with basic respect and decency didn’t matter to this kid, it was kindness he was unaccustomed to from the one who was suppose to fill a role similar to Glenn. He wondered how much praise Felix really needed to give for this kid to come to the conclusion of how he ranked compared to other brothers in the world. Still that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

“Sure.” Glenn finally said. “I’ll be your brother.”

Sylvain’s face lit up, and he pulled Glenn in for an immediate hug. Glenn sighed, pulling the child closer. He knew he wouldn’t be able to protect him from his own brother, but maybe. Just maybe he could soften the blow of having the worst brother in the world by acting like the best.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I fixed a few grammar errors I noticed post-posting. But holy cow guys, thank you for the kudos and stuff! I didn't expect such an outpouring of love for this fic! I was honestly very nervous writing it because I wasn't sure how people would like my interpretation of Glenn Fraldarius, but thank you for the support! <3  
> Fic based loosely on a headcanon I saw on tumblr about how Glenn basically adopted Sylvain as a little brother because his older brother was so awful.


End file.
